Decay
by Project OTD
Summary: When Zim loses his job as Invader, he does what comes naturally; he gets a new one.
1. A part of my day

Decay

**Chapter #1:** A part of my day.

"Listen mister, ah, Zim," said the man, "I don't think even you have the capacity nor the tools to do what our potential employer needs done when he needs it done. I think you should step down and let me and my men handle it."

"With all due respect, sir," I said, "I don't get paid to let you do my work. I'm applying for the job, and you will have lost the contract to me. Again."

His round face became livid, he was so angry that I thought he had burst a vein in his thick head. "You listen here, runt! My men and I will get this contract, or you'll suffer it for it."

"Ooh, real scary, 'pal." I chuckled, waving my gloved hands in mock fear. "Sorry, but I need the credits, and you need to get lost."

"When I'm through with you I'm gonna'-" He was interrupted by the secretary who stepped into the room to say;

"Mister Zim, Mr. Reynolds will see you now."

I stood to my feet with a curt nod, "Later, dirtbag. Thank you," I took a moment to look at the secretary's name tag, my eyes barely shifting from her face, "Mary."

She nodded and I passed into the door. Instantly it was shut behind me with a click and I was left in darkness for a few minutes before a faint light was activated across the room. "I apologize for the dark conditions, Mr. Zim, but this is the way it has been for a long time, and so it shall remain. Unless you complete your job, then maybe everything shall change, yes..." He spoke in whispery and raspy tones, and the way he spoke he sounded quite off, as if he were distracted, perhaps not even talking to me directly. "As for your job..."

A folder full of documents slid across what, in the darkness, I assumed was a desk. I picked it up and took a quick moment to peruse it, using a small light from my paK that went unnoticed. The man continued speaking, "As you can see, it is not the kind of operation as is your standard."

He was right, I was to infiltrate a seemingly abandoned facility. "Can't you just send some corporate goons to handle it?"

"Turn the page, Zim, look deeper."

I did as he said, and found where the challenge lie. The real job was to breach an underground compound and steal some high-value data and artifacts. "I trust you have the security information in this."

A dry chuckle emitted from Reynolds. "Yes, yes! All the information you could want, and more! Security layouts, checkpoints, patrol routes, passcodes, the whole deal!" He coughed from the exertions he made in his speech, obviously he was a weak man, or perhaps just old..

"Yes, well, and the compensation is satisfactory, as I see. I'll do it, as long as you're true to your word. Good day, Mister Reynolds."

"One more thing, Zim, if any of it comes back damaged, you'll suffer greatly for it."

With that ominous note from my employer, I left the room and smirked to my competetor. "Looks like I've got the job. Tough luck."

At this the man snapped his head up, stood, and shook his fist angrily at me. He started to yell, but I was out before I could hear any of it. This would prove to be an interesting operation.

Very interesting.


	2. Because

Decay

**Chapter #2: **Because.

I'm Zim. Invader Zim. I am an Irken Invader from the planet Irk, an elite trooper trained to weaken a planet's infrastructure to ease the conquest of my leaders.

Or I was.

You see, a few years ago I was informed of the fact that I was, in the terms of the Tallest, "A defective runt with no place in the Irken armada," and told that my mission to conquer the planet Earth was simply an exile. They had no idea what the name of the planet was, or whether it even existed. Of course, they didn't inform me of that fact when they sent me packing in my tiny Voot Cruiser on a six month voyage with an insane robot assistant.

Well, needless to say when I was informed of my status in the Tallest's logs that I was defective, exiled, and dead, I was furious. I raged and threw a tantrum, bashing computers, smashing furniture, and even decimating my little robot companion.

When I came to I found the house in shambles, everything, everything in the house, from the various lab room supplies to the attic's landing pad, and even to the voot itself was destroyed, leaving me with nothing. I buried my robot, detonated my home, and set off with what meager supplies I had on hand.

I had no idea where I was going or what I would do when I left, but I found that I had nothing to lose, and simply sat alone in the earth-park for many days, through rain and fog, just staying on a park bench, never sleeping, never moving. People actually came to stare at me on the one day it snowed. Heh, my skin, although freshly treated by glue, was already in burning pain. Eventually the crowd dispersed, leaving me alone.

Or so I thought. One person stayed behind. The Dib creature. "Hey, Zim!" he shouted menacingly. I remember it as clear as if it were today, his glasses reflecting the bright white of the snow around us, an evil, toothy grin upon his face. He was in his simple coat and frowning t-shirt, and his hair was still in the dirty scythe it was the whole time during our original encounters.. "Seems like I have you caught!"

An Irken never surrenders. Never. He made me realize that even without the backing or blessing of my leaders I still had a war to fight. A war against Dib, a war against humans altogether. "No, Dib." I said, "It is I who has you caught!" I burst from my seated position, showering our surroundings with snow and gripping for my adversary, shouting a battlecry.

We tumbled to the ground, trapped in a death vice, and I came out on top, my hands wrapped around his throat. I could feel my claws digging into his flesh, drawing a little blood before being kicked off, back into the snow. "Give up, Zim! Your almighty Irken prowess is nothing against me!"

I lay there in the snow with Dib lording over me, his fists clenched tight. Then he kneeled over me, before he was even able to make another move, I hit him with my head and entered a forward roll, tumbling into the bench with a painful crack. I gave an angered shout; Dib had recovered quickly, getting behind me and gripping my head, pulling it back. My eyes opened as wide as they had ever been and my contacts popped out and landed upon the bench, then Dib removed my wig and gripped my antennae forcefully. I gave a horrible shout. "You son of a whore!" I yelled. Taking his arms into my hands, I pulled him straight over me, and his head hit directly upon the back of the bench with a resounding impact. I stood to my feet, my anger boiling deep inside. "Give up, Dib, before you get yourself in too deep." I turned away, fists clenched and an eye twitching with anger.

As I walked away I thought I had won the battle, and was quite proud of myself. Or I was until I heard a growl, and then a great yelp as something collided headfirst to my back. Dib must have made one final leap to try and take me down. I wouldn't give him another chance. I quickly recovered whilst the boy was still on the floor and bent over him, raising a gloved fist and smashing it back down upon his face. He was out in the first hit. "I'm not done with you yet!" I growled, pummeling him in the face again, and again, and again. "Three years! Three damn years you've chased me, defiling my plans, and ruining whatever shred of dignity I may have ever had in my life!" I shook him vigorously and his teeth clacked together. He weakly cracked an eye open, his face the definition of fear. I growled in his face and dragged him out of the park.

'_This is my victory!_' I thought to myself as I reached the busy intersection. '_I am finally destroying this big headed rodent!_' I shook him once more, and looked into his face. "Let my face be the last thing you see before you expire. Look at me!" He whimpered weakly as I turned his face to the road. "Yeesss, now you understand. I had given you fair warning." I forced his gaze upon me once more before tossing his limp form into the intersection. I turned away and heard the screeching of tires and the sound of impact. "Glorious." I said. "Just glorious." I left to the park and retrieved my disguise.

And that is the story of my exodus from that mud hole. However, my entrance to this line of work was very simple. I started doing odd jobs as a cheap-hire henchman for various employers. Eventually my popularity rose and I became a valued agent amongst various international companies, private, legal, or illegal. My abilities I learned from the advanced Irken training course, and my natural advanced strength and perception made me a very unique one-man unit. Where maybe four men were sent to do work, I could be sent in alone and do a better job. In fact, I was frequently set in such situations where I would have to directly compete with opposing agents that were directly against my employer. I won in every battle, without a doubt.

Now, I am the highest class of hired-gun one can find, sent on missions that only the suicidal or insane would attempt. Who knows, maybe I'm both.

It's what makes me good at it.


	3. Conditions of Arrangement

**Decay**

**Chapter #3: **Conditions of Arrangement.

As with every job, I set up in a local house. Also, like every job, it was a house I bought with my own money under a different alias with an ID fabricator in my paK. While I could make identities and passports, I could never launder my own money, or credits, as these humans now called them. Gone were the dollars of old, now little green credit chips contained all the money you poured into it from your BOD-CCOM, or the Body OverDriver CompensationComputer. It enhanced your faculties and monitored your vitals, kept you connected to the vast world network and managed the money gained from credit chips.

A complicated system, by human standards.

I'm off the subject, I fear. I set up in a small house and loaded it up with equipment that I would need leading up to and on the night of the operation. Computers, small arms, glue, full body night gear, all my standard equipment.

My information stated that there would be a four guard patrol on the inside perimeter, and two men at the guardhouse at the front gates. Now, the best way to find out if this was a real operation, or if the intel was up to date was to survey the guards themselves for a couple days. I noted down common habits and idiosyncrasies of the guards on patrol and in their posts. I gleaned all the information I could from the observation, writing down notes and checking every single piece of equipment I may have used.

For the next few days I gathered firsthand data on their computer systems. From the outside I couldn't do much other than probe their systems until the night of the operation, unless I wanted to reveal my position through frequent off-site logins.

Of course, it still may have been a setup, but most, if not all, of the information was correct, and there was nothing more I could do. It was then that I decided to finally get to work, after two weeks of observation. I decided to do the job at night, as the guards were lax after hours. You'd imagine they would be punished for their laziness.

**Friday: The night of the game.**

By the game, I mean it it was a football game. The door guards would be inside the guardhouse, watching their game of feetball. Er, football, forgive me. I knew this was a highly religious death-sport of sorts, but could not understand the concept. What I also knew was that these men would be glued to the screen, making it even easier for me to breach the security.

I left the safehouse, walking down the streets, past the downtown area and into the economics district. Neither my employer or my studies could explain to me what the building used to be. The floor plans seemed to make it out as a factory, but the size made it unlikely, and the presence of an underground complex beneath the factory would seem an inconvenient cover, should someone want to demolish the building. As I neared the operation area, I stepped to the eastern edge of the high guard walls and put down the duffel bag I had brought with me and switched into my night gear and strapped on the holsters and accompanying guns to their normal places. One at the hip, one at my right boot, and the last one strapped to my back.

"Showtime." I muttered. It was time for me to break in. I willed my paK to work, and it creaked loudly as the legs slid out and embedded themselves into the wall. Then they slowly and erratically pulled me onto the wall. Then I spotted one of the two security cameras, cautiously walked along the wall, and disabled it.

Jumping down, I noticed that my timing was spot on, the guards were just now rounding the western corner of the building. I had five minutes before they would be behind me. Plenty of time. I stealthily walked to the front double-doors of the building. "Here we go." I muttered to myself. As I figured, the door was locked tight. "Let's do this." I checked my watch. "Two minutes." First, I tried forcing the lock with a claw. No dice. "C'mon." Then I had an idea. "Of course!" Another slight creak of protest from my paK and I was in, a tiny superheated laser beam obliterated the lock and the door swung open just in time, for the four guards rounded the corner just as I ducked into the building, closing the door tight behind me. I was right. It wasn't a factory, but a lab. I was upstairs, on a catwalk that went all around the room, making it possible to survey the lab tables below from every angle. Below there was a no longer sterile lab floor with four lab tables.

But what was intriguing was the red. From wall to wall the what I had assumed was pristine whitewashed walls and floor was now splattered with a dark red paint. Or rather, I had my own assumptions. Before I jumped to conclusions, I did a more physical form of jumping, leaping over the balcony railing and landing upon my feet on the floor. I got my answer.

It was blood.


	4. Detrimental to my Health

Decay

**Chapter #3:** Detrimental to my health.

It was blood.

All of it was human, and it was splattered and sprayed about the room as if someone had shook up a soda can and sprayed it's blood-red painty contents about the room before leaving the can upon the ground to let the fluid pool upon the floor.

I could not find the source of all this blood, and I had to watch my step, as cracked and crushed vials, flasks, and graduated cylinders littered the floor. Of all the blood, I couldn't help but notice that the reddest of the red was upon the tables. "I don't doubt that there is a tint of madness in this place." I muttered under my breath as I stepped lightly towards a door hidden in the red. I checked it for any pressure sensitive devices and found none. "There must be much greater security below this point. It wouldn't make sense to leave this facility so unguarded."

I shook my head and opened the door, which was well greased, despite the apparent lack of use. It was a staircase. A very high staircase. Looking down I found that the blueprints I was given were right, I could go straight past all the other levels and go straight down the staircase, all the way down.

"Dandy." I muttered. Giving a sigh I lept over the railing and started to descend quickly. A few floors down I gripped the rail for a breather and looked down. Lots of floors to go. I let go once more and descended a few more floors. But this time when I grabbed for the rail my hand slipped, and I was sent careening downwards. It seemed that I had finally made my terminal mistake. Until I realized there was only one way to survive, but it was going to hurt. A lot. I clenched my teeth together and my eyes shut as forced my spider legs out in four directions. Then the pain came and the legs snapped off like twigs, allowing me to fall the final flight of stairs without any terminal damage.

I lay there feeling the very definition of agonizing pain until I could finally bring myself to my feet. I coughed harshly, spitting out a bit of blood. The normal weak, yet vibrant hum from my paK was no longer audible. It must have been severely damaged when the spider legs had broken off. "Damn." I rasped, "I'm a fool."

But I had a job to do, and I got to it. There was a heavy metal door in front of me that I had to deal with. I examined the situation carefully. The door had to have been very thick, and the only way of opening it was to either enter the code on the keypad on it's left, or destroy the door. That's how it seemed, anyways.

"Fuck this." I said, regaining my strength and slamming my fist into the keypad. The door slid open with a clank, to my surprise. "That worked? Jesus."

I stepped through to see a straight hallway that went on for a short time, then ended with a T intersection. The document provided by Reynolds said that the research and 'Objects of Interest' would be on the right. Throwing caution to the wind I started running to my objective, quickly rounding the corner and into the room. "Yes!" I said. It was a simple operation, despite my foolishness in the stairway. I had been informed that it would be a job worthy of my talents. Apparently not.

Stepping lightly, I reached a computer system with a large information storage device attached. I plugged in a small cord from my paK into the computer, and it sluggishly siphoned the data from the storage device. While it did so I looked around. So far the facility belowgrounds had been simple and clean white-washed walls with little adornment. This room was no exception, but for the two pedestals in the center of it. "Hello there." I said to myself. One pedestal let off a blue light whilst the other a red. My paK dinged and the cord retracted back. I went to examine the small glowing plateaus with interest. One had a stunning ruby inset a gold pendant, the other a sapphire in an identical one. I grabbed them both and made my way out. Then an alarm went off. "Fuck." I rounded the corner to see a group of well-armed security guards standing in my path. "Fuck." I repeated.

"Stop right there, thief!" Shouted what I assumed passed for a leader. "We've got you."

"Fuck it, Danny. Just shoot him. He's armed, nobody on base will doubt it's self defense." said another.

"Yees, Danny." I hissed. "Just shoot me. See where that gets you."

Danny grunted angrily and hefted his rifle straight at me, and before he could get off a shot I had landed a bullet into his forehead. "Anyone else?" I asked, smirking.

The second man shouted as loud as possible. "Kill him! Kill him dead! FIRE!" The other three men opened fire upon me as I ducked into the hallway on the left and pressed myself against the wall. I peeked around the corner once the shooting stopped, only to find a bullet whiz past my head. Obviously this wasn't going to work so I decided to take my chances with the room on the left hand side. I went in to find a room showered in amber light. I didn't have the time to examine the place, but it seemed as if it was filled with shelf after shelf after shelf of vials filled with amber liquid. I rushed down through the room to find a small door. I kicked it open to reveal a ladder. It tired me out but I climbed it to find myself in a cramped vent system. I navigated my way to the central hallway, and I heard my assailants talking.

"Shouldn't we go after 'im, Greg?"

"Naw, man. He's got nowhere to go, now does he? Either he pops his head back out or just tries to wait us out."

"Or," I said through the vent grate. "I go around and kill your asses." At this statement I burst through the grate and struck out, my fist hitting the man Greg in the jaw. I swiveled quickly to another of the men, withdrawing my gun from it's holster and planting three shots in him. One in his leg, one in his chest, and one right between the eyes. I clocked a third man on the head with the butt of my pistol, and then dropped my gun to lunge at the last, gripping his head and twisting roughly. My Irken strength was easily enough to snap his neck, and almost remove his head from his shoulders. I grinned at the loud '_Crack!_' his neck made as I broke it. Then I turned one more time to face Greg once more, and grabbed him by his neck, slamming his face into the wall, leaving a smear of blood as he slid down.

"Nobody messes with Zim."

Panting, I made my way up the stairs. It had seemed most of the security had been focused on something else. The feetball game would be the most probable, but I felt uncomfortable, something was very off. At the top of the stairs I rested, my chest heaving and squeedily spooch pumping as much oxygen through my body as it could. I decided it was time to go, and opened the door. I wasn't expecting what I saw.

Before me stood the man I had met almost two weeks ago and his entourage. He was grinning evilly. "Oh boy oh boy. What do we have here?"

"It seems that we have little meatbag Zim, and he's got our loot." Said one of his men.

"Silence. Rhetorical question." Snapped the first man. "Listen, Zim. My name is Panchsky. You don't mess with a Panchsky, ever. If you do, he comes back for you, and he kills you. I'm gonna kill you. But first, I'm taking my prize." At this he lunged forward and gripped the pendants in his fist, I had the chain, he had the gems. He yanked hard upon the gem and the chain snapped. Then he pulled his revolver from his holster, firing the gun point blank where the human kidney would have been. I fell back in pain as Panchsky shoved me back into the stairway, slamming the door.

For a while everything was black, but my eyes slowly cracked open, and I limped to my feet and through the door. Panchsky was gone, the bastard. I was left alone inside, and I climbed up the staircase to the balcony, looking at the crimson lab one last time before pushing out through the double doors, a hand on my gunshot wound. I found out what happened to the guards.

They all had been slaughtered by Panchsky's men, turned into hamburger by their automatic weapons, a great pool of blood from the bodies made my footsteps make a wet squelching noise as I limped my way past the guardhouse. I fell to my knees right outside the gates, passing out.

When I woke up, I saw him.


	5. External Complications

Decay

**Chapter #5: **External Complications.

The pain was great. So great that I blacked out at the guardhouse gates for what had to have been an hour. When I came to I saw _him_. "Y-you." I said.

He said nothing, but lifted me in a fireman's carry, which I doubted was difficult, considering his stature in comparison to mine. I stared at the sidewalk as I felt my blood seep onto his coat from my wound. I was delirious, rambling nonsense and weakly pounding his back with my fists. I gave up soon after, and slowly lost consciousness. The last thing I heard was the clicking of his boots upon the pavement.

I awoke for what I was certain to be the last time hours later, cracking my eyes open to the glare of an overhead light. I blinked a couple times, and as my eyes adjusted I saw I was in another white room, on what I assumed was a human hospital bed. I reached for my wound and winced. Whilst it was well-bandaged it burned with pain, and for a while I lay there, hoping for it to end. Soon I noticed more than my pain and the white of the walls.

On my left there was a black stain amongst the wash of white. My savior -or perhaps captor was a more appropriate term- had been sitting in a waiting chair, and now he was unconscious, his chest rising and falling as he inhaled and exhaled.

It was him. There was no doubt. His round rimmed glasses were the same, and I had seen his eyes the night before. His shirt and coat were stained with my blood, but they were just as I remembered them. Even his boots had been the same. All I could do was gape for a moment.

Dib.

The human would never die! My very insides boiled with the sour mixture of fear and hatred at the sight of him. He looked hale and hearty, even after our last encounter in the park so many years ago. The most striking thing of all was, Irk, his _height_. Even slouching in his seat he was a head taller than me, I could imagine standing he'd be at least twice my height, at least!

After a while of my inspection he cracked an eye open, revealing his amber eyes. "You're awake." he stated. His voice had changed, become a little deeper, but still easily identified as almost identical to his voice the last time I encountered hm.

"Yes I am, Dib. Still stating the obvious, I see."

He squinted at me and said, "Have we met?" It was then I realized I_ had_ beaten him. The impact must have damaged his memory! It was a great relief to me when I noticed he hadn't removed my contacts or wig. He had no idea who I was.

_'Fantastic,'_ I thought to myself, _'Truly fantastic.'_ "Of course we have, Dib! Back when, uh... your father had that show! I sat next to you in the audience that one time."

He looked skeptical, but he didn't push the subject. "Right. What happened to you, uh..."

"Zed. I'm Zed, remember?"

"Yes, well. Can you tell me what happened to you? You were just passed out upon the sidewalk outside my dad's old lab with a bullet in your gut."

"I was visiting my guard friends for a game of..." I thought as hard as I could. And under the circumstances, it wasn't very fruitful. "A game of skee-ball! Yes, that was it. Deadly game is that skee-ball!"

Dib glared at me with a frown. "You've got to be kidding me. Skee-ball does not end up with someone getting shot."

"It does when you're playing with Danny. Danny and Greg, damn good skee-ballers. Damn good." I mumbled.

Dib sighed. "Whatever Zed, keep your secrets. I don't care."

"Where am I?" I queried.

"In my house. In the basement where dad used to work when he was at home."

"Hm." I hmm'd.

"What?" Dib asked.

"Oh nothing. Am I free to go?" I sat up and pulled the sticky-monitoring things from my arms, dropping them to the side.

"You shouldn't be moving around so much!" Dib exclaimed, standing up and attempting to push me back down.

"I appreciate the gesture, but I'm fine." I shrugged him off, pushing him back to his seat while I stood up.

"But-"

"-Silence, Dib-creature. I've got things to do." I burst through the door on the right of the bed and out into the dark gray of what I assumed was Membrane's lab. Concrete to my left and right, and a long hallway ahead of me. "Tired of underground corridors." I muttered.

After the treatment the Dib-human had given had set in, I had felt fresh, like a considerable weight had been lifted from my chest. It came as a surprise to me that I still had my remaining two guns in their holsters. I stripped off my back holster and put the pistol in it into my hip holster.

I navigated my way out of the basement through the all-too familiar living room of the Dib-rodent's base. I stood at the door, suddenly awash with memories of our past exploits. It had been a long, long time since I had seen the human. His growth was proof of that. It was a great deal of luck that he had lost his memory of me. I'm certain he would have snapped my neck on that sidewalk if he knew. I shuddered at the thought. I was totally caught by surprise when I felt a hand upon my shoulder, so surprised that I spun around and knocked him to the ground, pinning him face first to the carpet. "Zim, Zim stop!" he shouted into the floor.

He knew my name. He knew my name. '_He knows my name!_' The thought kept running through my mind. I had him in my grasp, but I was in his debt for saving my life. I didn't think I could kill him twice and live with myself. "You're a worthy adversary, Dib. I'm letting you live for now, but come after me and I'll end you."

I released his head and burst through the door, running down the street as fast as I could with my wounds before I tripping and falling upon my face. Dib had caught up with me and offered a hand to me, which I pushed away. "Listen, Zim. I know what you are, and what you're doing, but not why you lied to me. Everything surrounding the time I went to the park that one snowy day is gone. I woke up what I was told a month after I walked into traffic. But I know that I wouldn't do that Zim. I just don't get it. When I woke up I was told by my dad that I'd been hallucinating for three years about your existence, that the hit to the head fixed whatever was wrong in my skull, and I believed him. He taught me how to forget and suppress the false memories and ridiculous ideas of aliens. When I saw you I couldn't..."

"Couldn't get past your own block." I said. "Once I left you finally got past it, didn't you?"

"Yeah, that's right. But the thing I really realized is that you were gone right after the accident and never saw you again. Until today. What happened, Zim, what happened on that day?"

"Don't dwell on it, meatbag. Drop it, and I can ensure that you'll live longer." I got to my feet and started walking, Dib standing behind me dumbfoundedly. "I've got business to take care of."

The business of Revenge.


	6. Full Frontal Failure

Decay

**Chapter #6: **Full-frontal Failure.

I knew that Dib was staring daggers at my back, and I didn't care. The boy wanted information I knew I couldn't tell, lest he decide to confront me again."Hey Zim!" the boy called.

I stopped to look at him. His face was awash in curiosity. "What is it, Dib-creature?"

"Are you still trying to take over the world? Is that what you were trying to do at my dad's abandoned lab?"

"Yes, and no." I said, "My quest for world domination is forestalled for economic reasons, and I was simply completing work for an employer."

"And you got shot?" He seemed skeptical. "I took a look around before I took you home. Those guards were long dead before you came out. I know your style. Despite your mission you haven't killed a single human directly."

"Competition." I muttered. "Although you will find I killed Danny, Greg, and company downstairs.

"What competition? There was nobody else who left but you."

"Schlotzky's, or something. No, it was Panchsky. A freelance squad-leader. Or maybe he has his own private army that he carts around to do his dirty work."

"Panchsky, this is a familiar name," the man remarked. I would say boy, but I couldn't, not when he was so _tall_. "Are you sure you're not in too deep?"

"I've been too deep since I started this work." I said, "Nothing's changed. Get some sleep, Dib. Forget I even exist."

. "Whatever." I started to turn away once more, but the man stopped me once more, "Zim?"

"What?" I said irritatedly.

"Stay safe, just so I can dissect you later." He waved. "I expect answers, alien scum." I started walking.

I'd be getting some answers for myself first.

**Later**.

After I had cleaned up my safehouse and loaded up on supplies, I went back to the "scene of the crime" as it were. I noted where Panchsky and his men had parked their car, and the skidmarks, both inbound and outbound. "They were in a rush." I muttered. I passed through the gatehouse and inside the building, hopping over the railing into the drying puddle of my own blood. Ignoring any pretense of stealth, I punched the elevator's 'down' button impatiently and tapped my foot as I heard it hum it's way up.

With a ding the elevator doors popped open, and a familiar click made me freeze. One of Panchsky's men stood inside the elevator, staring daggers at me whilst aiming his shotgun at my head. "Fuck."

"Heh, the Boss said to stay behind, and for good reason, it seems." Said the grunt. "Any last words, punk?"

"Not particularly, but that's because I've never been good at my parting statements."

"Shut the fuck up, kid." he muttered.

I opened my mouth in an attempt to bargain, and he pulled the trigger.

**A Change of Perspective**

Zim laid upon the ground in shock; the pellets from the shotgun blast had sent him flying backwards. Leonard- for that is the name of this particular goon- laughed menacingly as the pint sized annoyance bled out upon the cold floor. "Money in the bank," he said while lighting up a smoke.

Money in the bank indeed. He let the cigarette hang between his lips while he dialed his boss' number. One ring.

Two rings.

Three rings. "What is it?" growled the voice on the other end of the line.

"Hey boss, I got him." Leonard said.

"So he wasn't dead after all?"

"He is now."


End file.
